Marco Vs The Forces of Sameness
by The Only Difference
Summary: Marco knows that he's different, and everyone else around him knows it too. This is how he deals with it, and where it began.
1. Chapter 1: Pilot Marco

**Chapter 1: "Pilot Marco"**

Marco's life started the moment he met Star.

He'd been waiting his entire life to break free from his "Safe Guy" name. He'd always been that, right from when he was just a baby, and he was sick of it. He wished everyday to be someone else, to be _somewhere _else. He _never_ wanted to be "Safe Guy," "Safety Freak," or anything like that, especially for the rest of his life. Marco hated being predictable and ordinary. Marco imagined "Died of worry and obsessiveness," engraved into his headstone. It looked lame, sad, and pathetic. No, he was never going to let that happen to himself, or give up on changing his title. He was going to be "Awesome Guy" one day.

All his life he'd been held back because of his "safeness," and finally, after years of patiently waiting, he had his chance, his wishing Star right there with him. He could finally be what _he_ thought he should be, not what _they _thought he should be.

Marco and Star's fighting adrenaline was running out, and their heavy breathing soon steadied. That fight scene was so perfect, Marco had never felt so excited or proud in his entire life. The moment all the bad guys were defeated and went through the portal was beautiful, it was so right, so video-game like. For once he _wasn't _safe-he was dangerous! And someone else-_Star_ saw him being risky! Awesome Guy was coming along quicker than he expected.

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**Author's Note:**

**EDIT: I put this on Archive of Our Own. :D Here it is:**

/works/3267893/chapters/7126445

I wrote this as part of a much longer document, but I decided to break it up into chapters instead to avoid a massive text wall. I think the other chapters (some of which I'm already done writing), are much longer if this, if it isn't to your liking. Please review, as this is my first fanfiction. Ever. Thanks, and enjoy :D


	2. Chapter 2: Elementary Marco

**Chapter 2: "Elementary Marco"**

When every other kid his age was learning to ride a bike, with training wheels, speeding away carelessly at the park; Marco was (still) at home, in his living room, trying to practice walking in the armor he'd encased himself in. The standard body pads and helmet weren't enough for the youngster, he'd gone through his family's garage and duct-taped all the bubble wrap he could find around himself. Even Marco's parents, especially his mother, had a difficult time hiding their amusement at their son's slow, zombie-stiff limbs, and his clunky waddling. Eventually they gave up and laughed at him, he looked at them in confusion; and decided that he didn't want to go through with the troubles of biking anymore. The armor was a hassle to wear anyway, he decided.

That day ended bike riding for him, but he never gave up on the dream; and he'd always looked for an excuse to use cycling supplies, keeping an immense stock in his garage. (Obviously that dream was a mistake to hold onto, because years later, when Marco was in high school, he wore a helmet in the showers, carrying over his elementary and middle school "reputation.")

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**Author's Note:**

I drew my own cover art. Anyway, sorry, this chapter isn't as long as it seemed in my head.

I think Marco's mom is adventurous, and his dad is more "safe."


	3. Chapter 3: Pre-K Marco

At first everyone thought Marco was just developing slowly-from his parents, to his teachers. They'd been hoping-no _wishing,_ that he'd grow out of his crippling fears, general clinginess, and reluctance to do most toddler things. But after two months of not showing any progress, they were starting to get worried. His teacher Mrs. Cindy finally decided that it was time for a parent- teacher meeting.

Marco was the last-and only one, in his class who still hadn't quite gotten over leaving home yet, (he cleverly pretended to forget his school supplies or plush toy at home so that his parents would have to go back to school and drop them off for him,) and that was the least of his issues. He also didn't like group activities, which were a necessity to develop social skills, and was a loner.

Mrs. Cindy and Marco's parents scheduled an in-person meeting, it would be their second time discussing Marco.

* * *

Marco was confused. But he was more annoyed and sleepy. He didn't want his parents to bundle him into a jacket and drive him back to school. He wanted to go back to sleep, blissful _sleep_. It was a Friday afternoon, and Marco's parents tore him out of his nappy time. It was at least an hour long on average, and he'd only had forty-five! As usual, he had an exhausting day of pre-k and was slightly grumpy.

The adults had told Marco to go play, to distract him, and he'd obeyed. They were adults and he trusted them. After all, they knew best.

That didn't stop the flow of questions in his mind though. He didn't want to be far away from them, and he didn't know why they were excluding him. He figured the least he could do was follow their instructions. He didn't want to be alone, like he was during the school day.

He could feel the adults' watchful, assessing eyes on him. Of course, they were oblivious to his unease, thinking that he was fully engrossed in the colored wooden blocks. He was just a kid!

His parents and Mrs. Cindy were quietly discussing him. They all wanted to know why he wasn't playing with his classmates as often as he should've been and were discussing ways to get him to socialize more.

Marco couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could feel the weight of the seriousness in the room. The tension made the room feel stuffy and made his throat feel strangely clogged.

* * *

The adults had called Marco's manipulations of the blocks "playing," but it was clear he was really classifying the blocks and then organizing them. He had them all stacked upwards in the colors of the rainbow; red was the closest to the ceiling, and the base of the block tower was violet, (although that color could've been purple or dark blue, the block itself was discolored, and some of the remaining paint was sloughing off its sides.)

He had been practicing memorizing the colors of the rainbow and identifying them, that's what he'd learned in school yesterday. "ROYGBIV," floated around in his head.

The organization wasn't what shocked his teacher, toddlers were clever and had arbitrary habits. It was how Marco was always alone and didn't seem to have any friends that signaled something was wrong. He always had to be coaxed into group activities, and then he was quiet, and tried to hide himself away. Marco didn't even want to go to school; he didn't want to leave his parents, or the safety of his house.

* * *

He could always count on them to listen to him, unlike the other kids at school.

Marco's parents made it their mission to find the source of why he wasn't social, and had started their investigation with a new ritual. He'd have a bedtime story (courtesy of his father, who told long-winded tales of funny talking animals, enchanting young Marco,"When have you ever heard a squirrel singing?") while his mother would prepare a snack-nachos, for the entire family. They'd listen to the story, ask for Marco to tell part of it, analyze those details later, and ask him more direct questions on his well being. Marco liked the extra attention and felt loved. His parents' care was helping and he was more happy and excited than he ever was before.

Slowly, he began to look forward to going to school. The only thing he loved more than school was coming home to his parents to tell them about his day and what had happened.

His teacher and parents' research only confirmed that Marco was just exceptionally shy. There was only room for more growth though.

They couldn't really find any other reason why Marco didn't like socializing with the other kids, other than how he was probably just introverted, and they chalked up being afraid of new places, situations, and large groups as being too attached to his family and home. It was the same issue as for a lot of other toddlers, but its effects were worse and longer lasting on Marco than for them.

The least his parents could do to help him was support and assuage him, and they were glad to do it. Marco was the brightest and most affectionate kid they'd ever seen, and they were more than happy to be his parents. No matter what, he was their son and they loved him.

Even though Marco was becoming more social, his parents kept coming up with new ways to get him to confide in them. They wanted Marco to tell them what he thought of any and everything; especially at dinner time in an effort to get him to be more outgoing. They wanted to see what it was like in his head, and they encouraged him to come home with his own stories to tell. They'd want to know about his day, what he did at school, what he learned, if he had any fun, did anyone give him any trouble? And if so, who was it? Did he feel bad? And they told him he shouldn't feel bad about what any bullies said. Marco's parents were fair, so eventually they'd ask if he'd bothered anyone and then lecture him. At the end of the day, they just wanted to know if Marco was growing. Marco had devoted parents who wanted to be involved, and he loved them too.

Their active involvement had made Marco change for the better. By the time Marco graduated pre-kindergarten and was ready to be promoted to Kindergarten, he had learned to get over leaving the house and his parents;(After all, he knew they'd be there later when he got home, waiting for him to talk about school,)had gotten over pretending to leave stuff at home, and had begrudgingly looked forward to being a part of a group.

He was also able to talk to adults (with his parents' guidance, or Mrs. Cindy's,) and could even start his own conversations with other kids, (although it took him at least two-and-a-half-minutes to psych himself up a few feet away before it happened.) Everyone who knew him was proud of his milestones.

Too bad not everyone he encountered was approachable. The next decade of his life was a mountain of new challenges.

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**Author's Note:**

Sorry for the wait, and this was the darker chapter I had to edit a lot. I have an even darker chapter written though which is really angsty, it's descriptive of (Marco's) sadness. Not sure how to rate the story anymore. I'll keep it k+ now but if that other chapter doesn't lighten up, I'll move it to a T.


End file.
